


Honey Chamomile

by autumnjjong



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Bookstore AU, College AU, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, No Angst, No Smut, Stargazing, Uncertainty, astronomy student jeongin, at least i dont think so, bookstore owner hyunjin, chamomile tea is really good, dont look too deeply into the books i chose, i havent read all of the books mentioned in here, idk if all the members will show up yet, ig??, soft hours only!, this is a comfort fic read it when ur sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:21:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24383464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autumnjjong/pseuds/autumnjjong
Summary: Finding an enchanting stranger among the rows of books had NOT been part of Jeongin's plan for the day. Yet here he was, soaking wet from the rain and staring at the willowy dark-haired man who calmly reshelved misplaced books.
Relationships: Hwang Hyunjin/Yang Jeongin | I.N
Comments: 6
Kudos: 40





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> its storming out and i wanna visit a bookstore and/or fall in love so i wrote this
> 
> usual disclaimer: shipping is fun but dont harass idols lol

Jeongin loved stormy days. Really, truly, he did. There was something comforting about the inky blanket of clouds and the distant rumble of thunder, the way the world became as dark as night in the middle of the afternoon. Oftentimes when it was storming, he would just pull a chair up to his bedroom window and observe the torrential rain and wind, or pull out his earbuds so he could hear the patter on the roof or feel the thunder shake his bones. 

Yes, Jeongin loved stormy days. But there was a catch: he hated being caught in storms unexpectedly. Normally, he could often be found standing on the porch barefoot, face turned to the sky. But in times like this- running home from class, jacket raised over his head in a futile attempt to keep dry- he cursed the heavens for turning his favorite weather against him.

Technically, Jeongin had known this storm was coming. He’d seen the clouds gathering on the horizon just that morning as he raced out the door. He had once been a morning person, but his astronomy major often required late nights squinting through tiny peepholes, searching for miniscule pinpoints of light. And though he relished the quiet hours of observation, they had messed up his schedule to the point where, if he had any say in the matter, he would never be awake before ten.

Unfortunately, university didn’t work that way, especially as a freshman who had to pick through the scrawny remains after the upperclassmen had ravaged the class list. As a result, he’d been in class since an eye-watering 7 am with just ten minutes to scarf down a bagel for lunch.

It was 5 pm now, the late afternoon sun obscured by the thunderous storm clouds that had chosen to break right as Jeongin left the sciences building. Knowing it would take a minimum of fifteen minutes to get home, Jeongin began jogging down the street, cursing every time he stepped in one of the quickly forming puddles.

He’d entered a small shopping district when the storm, somehow, worsened. Lightning arced across the sky at an unbelievable rate, and small pellets of hail began gathering on the curb. Fearing for his safety, Jeongin decided that he would rather arrive home late but unharmed than on time and heavily bruised. And so, he turned and ran up the steps of the closest shop he could find.

Slamming the old wooden door behind him, Jeongin took a moment to observe the establishment he had chosen at random. Though the building was clearly quite dated, it was well maintained; warped but spotless floorboards creaked under his shoes as he inched forward through the entryway and into a wide, warm room. High windows along the outer wall above his head housed an assortment of house plants, some of which had latched onto the brick wall and, in a way that could have only happened after years of care, stretched so far that a few tendrils found themselves on the back wall. Jeongin idly fondled an ivy leaf that had grown around the doorframe.

The entire room- save for a small counter in the left corner- was filled with rows upon rows of shelves, upon which Jeongin spotted books of every make, age, and subject. Here, too, houseplants thrived, though they were confined to the tops of the shelves and rarely dangled over the edges. 

At the back of the room was a wooden staircase that led into a loft, with a door at the back that was firmly shut. There were no books on the second level, which led Jeongin to wonder if the owner lived there.

“Can I help you?” came a soft voice as a stranger rounded one of the bookshelves. His hair was long and shone like a raven’s feathers. Despite holding a pile of books in his arms he moved with otherworldly grace, his loose white sweater swallowing his willowy frame. He smiled gently at Jeongin, eyes crinkling into crescents.

That is, until his eyes followed the water dripping off the boy onto the floor.

“Oh, shi- shoot, dude, you’re getting the floor all wet,” he said. “Uh, do you want to hang your jacket up to dry?”

Jeongin startled, then looked down, cheeks burning. “If it’s not too much trouble, that would be nice.”

“No problem,” the guy said. “I’ve got a place out back that’ll probably work. Follow me.”

As the two made their way through the maze of bookshelves, the guy looked back over his shoulder. “I’m gonna guess you’re in here to escape the rain.”

“Hail, actually,” Jeongin responded, stubbornly keeping his eyes trained on the books they passed to avoid looking at the other man.

“That definitely wasn’t on the forecast for today,” the guy exclaimed. “I’m glad you found us, then.”

They reached the back of the store and entered a small bathroom.

“The floor here’s tile, so you don’t have to worry about ruining it,” the guy said, then gestured to a pipe running along the ceiling. “You can drape your jacket over this until it dries. If you put it over the heater it’ll probably dry faster.”

“Thank you,” Jeongin said sheepishly. “Is there any way I can… repay you?” He cringed internally at the awkwardness of his question.

The guy laughed- giggled, really- and tucked some of his hair behind his ear. “Don’t worry about it. Your jacket isn’t gonna do anything to hurt the store. Feel free to browse our selection though. If you need help, just call me over.” He turned to leave, but before walking out of sight, he added, “My name’s Hyunjin, by the way. You are?”

“Jeongin,” the boy said, straightening his jacket over the pipe so it wouldn’t wrinkle. “I go to school here.”

“Well, nice to meet you, Jeongin,” Hyunjin said, eyes crinkling into crescents once again. “Do enjoy your time here.”

“Thank you, I will,” Jeongin replied.

And with that, Hyunjin was gone, probably back to shelving the pile of books he had set down earlier.

Jeongin let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Perhaps it would have been better to finish the journey home, despite the hail. He wasn’t sure how many short, awkward conversations he could have with the pretty guy before he combusted. Getting hailed on probably would’ve been less painful.

He steeled himself and, probably with a little more bravado than necessary, strode back out of the bathroom and into the main store. 

The hail hadn’t let up at all; in fact, it was larger now, coming down in penny sized balls that thundered against the high ceiling. Hyunjin was standing at the window, watching it fall.

Jeongin chose to hide behind a shelf and busied himself with a book that he had pulled out at random.

The book itself wasn’t too exciting; it was a biography about some rich American philanthropist from the early 1900s. However, it served as a fitting distraction, as Hyunjin only gave him a curious glance as he strode past, an encyclopedia cradled in his arms.

Jeongin surreptitiously returned the book to its spot and moved on to the classics section. These books were an odd mix of new and used, though they all were in good condition. Jeongin ran his fingers over the spines before selecting one bound in deep blue leather.

“Rebound some of those myself,” Hyunjin commented, passing by Jeongin yet again.

Jeongin momentarily forgot the awkwardness of their first conversation as he spun around, book still in his hands.

“You bound these?”

“A number of them,” Hyunjin said, pulling a book bound in green silk from the top shelf. “This store deals in both new and used books. Sometimes they come in so damaged that there’s no way they’re sellable. It hurts to see them so decrepit, you know. So I take it upon myself to rebind them.”

“That sounds like a lot of work,” Jeongin said.

“It is,” Hyunjin replied. “A lot of work. But it’s worth it. And I’ve been doing it for a while, too, so it comes pretty easily to me.”

He held the green book out to Jeongin, who took it carefully after replacing the blue one. It was a copy of The Wind in the Willows, and stamped into the fabric of the cover was a detailed illustration of the easily recognizable main characters- Toad, Mole, Rat, and Badger.

“Is this a first edition?” Jeongin marvelled, running his fingers over the black leaves twining around the cover.

Hyunjin chuckled again. “If only. No, this one was published in the eighties. It was simply well loved.”

“It’s a children’s book, right?”

“Technically,” Hyunjin responded. “Though I believe its lessons, though simple, are timeless.” 

Jeongin opened it, flipping through the pages. The book had obviously seen a lot in its time, but Hyunjin’s gentle hands had healed it in a way where, though it still carried history, it could be loved for years to come.

On the back of the front cover there was a small stamp. From the Hwang Collection, it read, a delicate flower printed just above the words.

“That’s a chamomile flower,” Hyunjin said. “They happen to be my favorite.”

“I see,” Jeongin replied. 

There was a beat of silence between them. Hyunjin moved first.

“Doesn’t look like the storm will let up anytime soon,” he said, glancing out the window. “Would you like to find something to read and sit down? I can make us some tea.”

Jeongin was, once again, shocked by the owner’s hospitality.

“Ah, that’s ok,” Jeongin said. “About the tea. And I feel like I should buy the book before I read it.”

“Nonsense,” Hyunjin scoffed. “I can tell the rain chilled you to the bone. You need something to warm yourself up.”

Jeongin flushed and tried to stop his shivers, but failed. Hyunjin gave him a knowing glance.

“And I don’t mind if you don’t buy anything. I enjoy the company.” 

Jeongin blinked a few times. “I… okay,” he said. “If you don’t mind.”

“I just told you I don’t,” Hyunjin said, eyes crinkling into crescents. “Now, you can find somewhere to sit down here, or I have a couple couches upstairs that are infinitely more comfortable. Wherever you choose to sit, I’ll find you when the tea is ready.”

“Thank you,” Jeongin said timidly, clutching the old copy of The Wind in the WIllows to his chest. Hyunjin glided away, footsteps soft even on the wood floor, and Jeongin was left alone amongst rows and rows of bookshelves.

He browsed through a few titles, though the green book stayed safe in his arms. Eventually, he abandoned the rows of bookshelves and carried the classic up the stairs, to where he found an assortment of mismatched old chairs circling a large, pitted coffee table. A little overwhelmed by his choices, he sunk into the closest one- an olive green armchair with gold upholstery. Immediately he was swallowed up by the cushions, and he struggled a bit to lean forward and rearrange the pillow he had sat on.

“Interesting choice,” Hyunjin said, emerging from a door next to the collection of chairs holding two steaming mugs. “My favorite is the black couch.”

“Ah,” Jeongin said, not really knowing how to respond. “This one’s comfortable.”

Hyunjin made an affronted sound. “All of my chairs are comfortable!”

Jeongin balked. “I’m… I’m sure they are.”

Hyunjin smirked and set one of the mugs in front of Jeongin on the coffee table. A delicate aroma wafted to his nose.

“What flavor is this?” he asked, carefully picking up the mug with both hands. The liquid inside was a light amber.

“It’s chamomile,” Hyunjin said, sitting lightly on the black couch with his own mug. “With honey. Gotta stick to the brand, you know.” He gestured at the stamp on the inside cover of Jeongin’s book.

“I’ve never thought of putting honey in tea,” Jeongin said. “I actually don’t drink tea that often. I tend to lean towards coffee.”

Hyunjin grabbed a novel sitting on top of his couch and opened it to where the bookmark lay. “That’s unfortunate,” he said. “Well, I hope you like it. It’s my favorite.”

Jeongin sniffed the tea again. It was aromatic and floral, and rippled like gold as he brought the mug to his lips. Unbeknownst to him, Hyunjin peeked over his book to see the boy’s reaction to the beverage.

The flavor of the tea was subtle but brilliant; it tasted, to Jeongin, like liquid sunshine.

That was, after his tongue recovered from the initial burn of the hot water.

“Ack! It’s hot,” he cried, jolting a little. Hyunjin’s eyes widened, and Jeongin hurried to console him: “It’s perfect though! I never thought of putting honey in tea, but this is… really good.”

“Well, this isn’t just any tea,” Hyunjin said, relief laced through his voice. “This comes straight from my grandfather’s backyard. It’s his pride and joy.”

Jeongin hummed appreciatively. “A little bit of fondness goes a long way.”

“It sure does,” Hyunjin said. “The bookstore is the same way.”

“It’s your grandfathers?”

“Was,” Hyunjin corrected. “He spent his entire life building this little place. He’s too old to run it now, so he entrusted it to me.”

“That’s a lot of trust to put in somebody,” Jeongin mused, before realizing his mistake. “I’m- that’s not what I meant, I’m sure you’re a very trustworthy person-”

“You’re ok, Jeongin,” Hyunjin said. “It is a lot of trust to put in somebody. But we’ve shared a passion for books ever since I could read. We both knew for a while that I’d be the one to inherit the store.”

Jeongin sighed. “Glad you know what you want to do,” he muttered.

“Sorry?”

“Nothing,” Jeongin said, then turned to look out the line of windows across the store. “It’s still hailing.”

“That it is,” Hyunjin replied. “It’s the perfect weather to read.”

Jeongin nodded, turning back and opening his book. 

They read in silence for a long time. Occasionally Jeongin surreptitiously watched Hyunjin’s expression change as he read; the other man was very expressive, and Jeongin could almost watch the plot of whatever he was reading play out on his face. 

That, and he was very attractive. Not that Jeongin cared about that. 

But after maybe an hour or so, Jeongin found his eyes drooping. The tea had warmed his insides and calmed his senses, and the steady rhythm of the storm running its course above and the soft chair surrounding him lulled him into a state of comfortable lethargy.

As his eyes fluttered shut, he vaguely registered Hyunjin smiling mildly at his book.


	2. Chapter 2

Jeongin crouched on the sidewalk and examined the curb.

The hail had apparently stopped shortly after he had fallen asleep, according to Hyunjin. Still, the shop owner had allowed him to continue sleeping, only waking him when the sun began to set.

_ “You may want to get going,” he whispered, gripping Jeongin’s shoulder gently. “It’ll get dark soon.” _

_ Jeongin shot up from where he’d been half-buried in the chair and found himself tangled in an old knitted blanket. Hyunjin caught his puzzled expression and giggled. _

_ “You looked a little cold after you fell asleep,” he explained. “And your jacket was still wet, so I figured a blanket wouldn’t do any harm.” _

_ Jeongin flushed and, not knowing what else to do, bowed to Hyunjin. “Thank you,” he said. “For letting me stay here and get water all over the bathroom floor. And sleep in your chair. And drink your tea.” _

_ “No problem,” Hyunjin giggled. “I’d let you do it again. Now, get out of here. I’m sure you have roommates who are worried about you being out this late.” _

So, Jeongin had left the small bookshop and its elegant owner behind. 

It was still cold and damp out; Jeongin shivered as he took a shortcut through a park. His jacket still wasn’t quite dry, so it was draped over his arm. He missed the warm bookstore.

Eventually he found himself sliding the key into the doorknob of his apartment and letting himself in.

It wasn’t the nicest place; he was, after all, a freshman in college. But his roommates were nice and cooked for him sometimes, so he tolerated it.

“Oh! Hey Jeongin,” Seungmin- Jeongin’s first roommate- said from the counter, where he was microwaving soup. “You’re home late.”

“I had to hide from the storm,” Jeongin said. “It’s a long story.”

“Cool,” Seungmin said, removing the bowl from the microwave and promptly dropping it on the counter, causing some of the boiling liquid to spill over the sides. “Shit, that’s hot. ‘Lix, I made a mess, could you pass me some paper towels?”

Jeongin’s other roommate, Felix, didn’t look up from his switch as he handed a roll of paper towels to Seungmin.

“Good talk,” Jeongin said. He left the other two in the kitchen and went to his bedroom.

Jeongin was fairly proud of his room. Meaning: it was clean. He’d never been good at decorating; he’d had to share a bedroom with his brother in his family home, so it had always been a mess of clothes and books, mostly his brother’s. Here, though, he was in charge of his own space. Which meant immediately putting a map of the moon over his bed, and glow-in-the-dark stars all over the walls and the ceiling. He probably wouldn’t get his security deposit back because of the damage the stars caused to the paint, but he figured he was already living without the money. 

He tossed his backpack on the bed, carefully hung the still damp jacket in his closet, and resigned himself to an evening of physics homework.

“Fuck math,” he muttered as he settled on his bed and unzipped his backpack. “All my homies hate ma- oh?”

A familiar green book was tucked into the bag next to his notebooks. Jeongin pulled it out and stared at the woodland animals stamped onto the cover.

“This is Hyunjin’s book,” he muttered to himself. “But… What's it doing here? Did I accidentally put it in my backpack? Oh, god, does he think I stole it?”

He opened the cover and discovered a slip of paper tucked into the crease of the spine. Unfolding it, he was met with a note in neat handwriting.

_ You seemed to like it, so this one’s on the house. Feel free to stop by anytime.  _

_ Hyunjin  _

Next to the signature was a little doodle of a flower. Jeongin instantly recognized it as the chamomile from the Hwang family stamp.

He sighed with relief. At least he didn’t accidentally swipe a book from Hyunjin’s shop.

“That’s not a smart way to run a business,” he mumbled, placing the book in an empty spot on his shelf, the cover facing outward so he could admire the artwork. “Who gives hand-bound books to strangers for free?”

With one last curious glance at the green storybook, Jeongin turned to his physics homework. 

\---

Eleven hours later, Jeongin found himself slumped at a desk in his 8 AM geology class. At the board, his professor was describing the formation of igneous rocks.

Jeongin doodled a little flower in the margins of his notebook. He wasn’t really listening; it was a miracle he’d even made it to this class to begin with, given that he hadn’t gone to bed until two in the morning and had a bad habit of sleeping through his alarms. Physics was a bitch. For many reasons.

“-That’s what makes pumice so light,” the professor exclaimed from the front of the classroom. “In fact, pumice is so light that it  _ floats in water.” _

To prove her point she walked over to a student’s iced coffee and dropped it inside. Sure enough, the rock floated. The student, understandably, was not impressed.

Jeongin furtively rolled his eyes and rested his chin in his hands. At least this class was only an hour long. 

After a few minutes he found himself doodling in his notebook again. It started out with flowers- as most doodling does- but eventually the margins were full of flowers, mushrooms, planets, and a pathetic attempt at a frog.

Jeongin squinted at the frog. “What am I doing,” he muttered to himself. “Frogs? Flowers? What the hell?”

The student seated next to him gave him a weird look, and Jeongin shut up. 

Twenty minutes later, Jeongin was sprinting to his next class. Physics, unfortunately. And despite staying up nearly all night, Jeongin was sure he’d failed the assignment.

The day passed slowly. Jeongin stole half of Seungmin’s sandwich when he passed the education major on the lawn, and promptly booked it to his next class while shoving it into his mouth.

Stats class, an hour to study in the library, and then two hours in the writing lab perfecting a paper for his geology class. Then back to the library to print his paper, and  _ then _ a trek across campus to turn the paper in to his professor at the last second. Why she didn’t accept online submissions, Jeongin would never know. 

Jeongin finished at four, an hour earlier than the previous day. In a stark contrast to the previous day, the weather was wonderful; though it was slightly chilly, the sun warmed Jeongin’s face as he strolled down the sidewalk. 

He paused in front of the bookstore. The open sign was lit, the door unlocked. Jeongin decided to give it another go.

The bell jingled cheerfully as he poked his head through the door. The shop was different during the day; sunlight poured through the overhead windows and illuminated the colorful book spines. The plants on top of the shelves reached for the light, leafy tendrils tumbling over each other in a struggle to receive the most warmth.

“Hah,” Jeongin scoffed. “Photosynthesis.”

“Photosynthesis?” 

Hyunjin appeared out of nowhere and peeked over Jeongin’s shoulder, narrowing his eyes at the plant Jeongin was inspecting.

Jeongin jumped in surprise and accidentally bumped Hyunjin’s chin.

“Ow,” Hyunjin groaned, massaging his jaw.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” Jeongin stammered. “You scared me, and I’m clumsy I do this a lot, I’m sorry-”

Hyunjin placed a single finger over Jeongin’s lips. “It’s ok, man,” he said. “You were thinking about photosynthesis.”

Jeongin glared at the plant. It did nothing in response.

“I didn’t expect you back so soon,” Hyunjin remarked.

“Oh. Well, um, it turns out the bookstore is on the way home,” Jeongin said sheepishly. “And I thought I might stop by and thank you for the book.”

Hyunjin smiled, eyes crinkling into that trademark crescent smile. “You found my gift?”

“I thought I’d accidentally taken it!” Jeongin exclaimed. “I was terrified you’d find out and chase me down!”

Hyunjin laughed, loud and sincere. “Oh, Jeongin, even if you had stolen it I would’ve let you have it.”

“That’s- not how you run a business!” Jeongin cried. “You can’t just give books to people!”

“Sure I can,” Hyunjin chortled. 

Jeongin shut his mouth. There was no way he was going to argue with Hyunjin about his own business.

“Anyways,” Hyunjin said, placing a light hand on Jeongin’s back and guiding him deeper into the shop, “you’re here now, so why don’t you stay a while?”

“I have homework,” Jeongin lamented.

“Can you do it here?”

“...yes.”

“I pride myself on the atmosphere of my bookstore. You won’t find anywhere better to study.”

Hyunjin may have said this with mock pride, but Jeongin didn’t miss the sparkle in his eyes.

Hyunjin’s hand left his back as they reached the staircase to the loft. “Holler if you need anything,” Hyunjin said, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. “I can join you in a few minutes, if you want.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” Jeongin said.

And really, he didn’t. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey hey heyy sorry its been literal months since chapter 1 ive been juggling a lot of stuff and only recently found the time to write (cries)
> 
> follow me on twitter!  
> main: vulpeinnie  
> rps/writing acc: yjibaby (reqs welcome!)
> 
> thank you for reading ^^

**Author's Note:**

> hey im viv!! find me on twt at vulpeinnie/yjibaby and read my other skz fic [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18125792/chapters/42854384)


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